2145ic

[to lore]
[from jeff]
[channel secure]

hey, can you run a check on someone for me? what'll it cost?

[end message]

Who: Jamie and Jess
Setting: Their place

Once JJ was gone longer than two hours, Jess was pretty sure she had a guess as to what he was up to. She flicked over to his contact but he was shut down, which just meant even more. She’d continued to work, but her scowl was deeper.

Then she went home to wait. And wait. And wait.

( And wait. And wait. )

Who: Jess and Jamie
Setting: their apartment, morning after the fireworks

Jess leaned off the side of her hammock, looking over where JJ was in his . “Well, at the very least...his music isn’t terrible.” They’d looked up Cody, comparing his current photo with the ones from his heyday, when he was popular. They’d listened to his music. She was still pretty sure he wasn’t the kind of guy that Jamie should be hanging out with, but she hadn’t said that. Not yet. She was kind of giving him space to figure that out on his own.

Jamie had one leg hanging out of his hammock, which he used to push against the wall every now and then, keeping him swinging gently. He had his eyes closed, flicking through the images they’d talked about earlier and which played against the inside of his eyelids. He had one arm under his head, cradling it against his pillow - a hand-embroidered cushion he’d traded three days dancing for last summer. It had been a lot of work, but the cushion was a work of art and the girl had no credits to actually pay him with. “I like it,” he said dreamily, after a moment, humming along to the music. He was still trying to work out what last night had been. He wasn’t used to attention like that and he wasn’t entirely sure how to handle it.

( come JJ think about it )

Who: Jamie and Jess
Setting: Their place, then walking to Central Park

The dark canvas bag slung over Jamie’s shoulder was almost as big as he was - not that that was saying much, given his petite frame - but he lugged it back to the apartment he shared with his sister without complaint. It was all in a day’s work. And evening’s work. Vocabulary was as moveable as their routine. Case in point - the ‘apartment’. The word sounded grander than the reality. A space they’d carved out and repurposed from the back corner of a larger building. It was secure - they’d worked hard to make it so - but you didn’t have to look too hard to see that it hadn’t started life as a residential block.

He dropped the bag in an alcove just inside the door. He knew he should get straight on to unpacking - the contents would be still wet, even though his short dark hair had dried on the walk home, leaving an unstyled mess that was halfway between spiky and fluffy. Any other night, that would be the plan. Tonight, though, was no ordinary night. He’d been booked for a party by someone who could afford his full act, but negotiated to finish at midnight. Early enough to get home, get changed and head straight back out again. Early enough to enjoy the celebrations for himself.

( You look nice tonight... )